


Toast

by CatalystOfTheSoul



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: F/M, Gray Ghost, christmas truce, danny phantom/valerie gray - Freeform, red huntress, technus - Freeform, upgraded valerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9127315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatalystOfTheSoul/pseuds/CatalystOfTheSoul
Summary: Valerie's latest upgrade has given her something she can't control. Who can she turn to for help?Gray ghost! With all their secrets intact, too. ;)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Christmas truce fic for festivefenton!!! Happy holidays, and I'm sorry it's late!

Stars filled the void, winking in and out of existence like fireflies. Blackness rippled away from her, the water lapped at her shoes. She couldn’t tell if the night sky had become the lake, or if the lake had become the sky. As far as the eye could see, there was no horizon. The only gravity was her feet planted on what might have been the roof of the universe. She breathed in the heavy, wet air. Her curls floated around her head, as if she walked in a world underwater. Each step echoed deep in the chasm of the void, and returned to her as music. Even her shallow breathing seemed to weave a strange melody.

Valerie closed her eyes and smiled. Here, there was nothing. And yet, even in nothing, there was something. A heady, dizzy calmness sank down into her belly.

A shrill whistle shattered the dream. Her eyes flew open. The cracked, water stained ceiling of an apartment in downtown Elmerton hovered starlessly above. The walls vibrated in tune with the screeching of wheels on tracks just below her window. Valerie groaned and shoved a pillow over her face.

Time to get up.

 

The routine is simple. Two alka seltzer tablets, one IBuprofen (four sealed in a baggie for later), and an icy cocktail of spinach, flax seed, and various frozen berries. Valerie went between a cup of water and the smoothie until both were gone. She chewed on the ice and berries that the blender failed to mangle properly. Next was a toothbrush, a semi-hot shower, and a careful lathering of silver solution over agitated burns. Valerie gave extra care to her feet; she wore compression braces around each ankle, and rubbed a tingling cream over her toes until they itched with an almost numbness.

She stepped into a worn pair of slippers and inspected her naked body in the mirror. Her hair was matted in clumps. She spent time fanning out strands with a bottle of detangler and a chipped comb. Then she put on a headband, light makeup, clothes that smelled cleanish, and an abused pair of sneakers. Valerie spent the better half of the morning nursing a cup of coffee and searching the house for enough bangles to mask the triangle-shaped scars on her wrists. She finally left the house at five am, with her father still snoring on the couch.

The city was always quiet before dawn. She took a bus toward central Amity in the relative peace of a day unbroken. Birds announced the purpleness of the sky; they flit between telephone lines and concrete-circled trees. Valerie watched from behind glass. The birds were the first alarm of the city; they knew about the ghosts before she did, and disappeared long before the first shriek echoed across the alleys of Amity.

Watching the birds play was its own kind of solace.

Valerie indulged herself with a pair of headphones with a cord that needed to be held just right for sound to flow into the speakers. The music reminded her of the sparkling void. With it, she let the world around her fall away, and sank into a waking dream. The bus surged onward.

 

* * *

 

He enjoyed rooftops. They were a place both apart from the world and tied to it. The wind up here was different from the wind below; colder, faster, biting at exposed ears and combing through untamed hair. Danny tilted his head back and let it wash over him. _The greatest advantage of being human is feeling the wind,_ he thought, smiling at its assault. Translucent hair whipped in front of his eyes and whisked away just as quickly, pulled by spiralling currents.

Danny wondered what would happen if he let the wind pick him up and send him away. He could follow wherever it went, controlled by a force not his own; he could join the great storms that raged over the ocean and flow over the steep himalayas. He clutched the edge of the roof.

His fingers ached to let go.

“The pigeons like you.”

He jumped, literally, off the edge of the building. Though he failed to fall, and the wind failed to carry him off. She hovered over the roof, framed by a pink sky on a platform of gravity-defying ectolonium. The city spanned below them, a dazzling array of streets and cars.

“They don’t flee when you’re around. You’re the only ghost they like.”

“Well, you know, pigeons are my number one supporters.” He settled back on the roof, “Everyone else just flips a coin. Heads for evil, tails for, uh…”

He frowned. “Wait. You showed up?”

Valerie folded her arms. “You waited for me.”

“I mean, yeah, but you - “ He blinked, taking in the black and red uniform that was more like an extra layer of thick leather skin than clothing. The pattern had changed to accommodate a simple glowing triangle on her chest, with long black sleeves which ended on glowing wrist cuffs. It made him think of spiders. “How are your burns?”

“Healing quickly.” Valerie’s helmet retracted just as the sun edged over the horizon. Dazzling yellow light framed around her hair and transformed her into a golden silhouette. “Your advice worked. That’s why I’m here. You know what this,” she gestured to herself, “is?”

Danny nodded. “I might have an idea.”

She stared at him for a long time. Finally, her arms dropped, she sighed, “Okay.” The hoverboard  melted, she dropped to the roof. “Then tell me. I have school in like two hours, so be quick.”

“I’ll do my best.” Danny muttered, perfectly aware of their deadline. He didn’t add that this meeting cost him just as much sleep as she lost, if not more. He desperately needed coffee, and to sulk over the new scar on his leg. He wanted to complain. Socialize. Wallow in self-deprecating humor. He wanted to be Danny Fenton.

He frowned.

Not today.

Valerie wasn’t here because she trusted him. She was here because she was scared, and she needed answers, and god _forbid_ Vlad get to her first.

“Now, I’m no expert in this, but it seems like your latest upgrade - “ he thought back to the fight the night before, and pieced together the fragments of nonsense Technus had been shouting, “ - has bonded you to your suit. The ectoplasm is, uh, kind of on the same wavelength with you now.”

Valerie squinted at him. She did that to him when he was Fenton, too, when he’d told a really obvious joke and she didn’t want him thinking he was funny. “What, so I’m some kind of hybrid now? Like a - a half-ghost...thing?”

He tilted his head. A burning sensation roared in the back of his skull and he scrambled; he had a joke for this. A really excellent, well rounded pun. The burning sensation spread, filled up his chest, he couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. The bruning bubbled up to his lips and he snapped with an audible _crack_ and collapsed into a fit. It burned like screaming, but it came out like laughter.

Valerie Gray.

A human ghost hybrid.

He completely lost control of himself.

Valerie Gray.

_Dead?_

He laughed until it drained out of him, until the bubble of absurd madness popped and he was left doubled over and wheezing for air he didn’t technically need. Valerie was staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Oh - no - nonononono. No. I mean, no. That’s. That’s just - impossible. Like,” he spread his arms as wide as he could, “ _this_ impossible. You’re not, I mean, _I’m_ no _expert_ , but, no. Just no.” He snorted. “No.”

A familiar hum. Metal pooled like water filling an invisible container, spilling out of the shape in Valerie’s wrist and filling her hand until a glistening ectoweapon with a red heartbeat rested in her palm. Danny stepped back. Valerie shook her head, bewildered. “Then...what…?” She looked at him, desperation in her eyes, “What’s happening?”

His heart ached. The sunlight of the new day exposed her; the Red Huntress, a beautiful and terrifying force. A fearless warrior at the doorstep of her greatest enemy, asking for help. Valerie Gray, the girl caught in everyone else’s story. He swallowed, and planted his feet firmly on the ground. “You might want to sit down.” He said softly. She didn’t.

So he just started.

“Technus is a unique ghost. He died three years before the first computer was invented, and he knows what a _floppy disc_ is. It’s…” Danny rubbed his neck, “It doesn’t sound impressive, but it is. Ghosts aren’t capable of New Things. They’re literally creatures of memory, so, like, the power to _adapt_ is very rare.

“Ectoplasm likes life, right? It’s the echo of living memory and gathers new energy from living things, so if something alive were to bond with ectoplasm - and if that bond were to succeed - then it has a constant power source. It’s the ultimate adaptation, the ultimate upgrade.”

Valerie shifted uncomfortably. She turned over the ectogun, testing its realness. “So I have super powers now.”

“Technically, haven’t you always?”

She glared. “That was just a suit.”

“A magic suit that grew out of a backpack, Red.” Danny lifted his eyebrows, “You’ve essentially gone from Iron Man to Green Lantern here.”

She held the ectogun like it was some kind of alien thing. Danny approached, cautious of the trigger, “I know I’m a ghost. I know I’m your enemy. But I can help you. No questions asked, no expectations, no favors, no payment. I’ll help you control this.”

Her teal, sunkissed eyes met his green, sparking ones. Her lips trembled. “Why?”

“I like you.”

She rolled her eyes.

He waited. Valerie glared. A scar over her left eyebrow twitched. “...Fine.” The gun split the space between them, “But if you do anything I don’t like, I’m going to fight. Green Lantern style.”

He took a step back and braced himself. “Honestly, why don’t you start with that? Show me what you can _do_ , Red.”

 

An hour passed. Danny did a lot of talking. Valerie did a surprising amount of listening. They established her limits. Valerie could only conjure ectoenergy if she packaged it in ectolonium. The new, glowing scars on her wrists, chest, back, and heels provided liquid metal that formed and cooled in seconds. Valerie easily conjured up guns and her hoverboard. The only problem was, she couldn’t get a single thing to fire.

She just kept aiming guns and pulling triggers.

With every dry fire, she cursed, and tried something new. A new position, a new gun, a new constipated expression. Valerie planted her feet on the center of the roof and aimed at the ghost sitting precariously on a round chimney cap.

“You need to try something else.” Danny flipped though his phone, and hadn’t bothered to put a shield up. “Stop using guns.”

 _Click_.

“It’ll work.” Valerie cocked the gun again. “I’m angry enough this time.”

 _Click_.

“No, you’re not.” Danny scrolled through Amity’s morning news feed. “Make something else. Gauntlets. A sword. A fishing net. In essence, quit relying on _amo_.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“What if you have to fight a ghost before you do?”

 _Click click click_.

 _Mayor Promises to Raise CIty Building Insurance, Companies Flee_. Danny clicked the article and skimmed. Vlad’s political extravaganzas were getting less interesting. He wasn’t sure if not caring was a good thing; passive acceptance of a person is _still_ acceptance.

“I can’t use melee weapons.” The gun dissolved, silver streams retreated to the red power lines on her body. “I’ll be killed. I can’t fight like you, I _need_ amo.”

“Don’t know what to tell you. It’s hard to manifest that stuff.” He skimmed the article. Foster’s insurance was leaving Amity? That’s a _lot_ of homes… “Why don’t you try something that isn’t a weapon? Ectoenergy forms to memory. You’ve only been handling guns for, what, three years? Try something more familiar.”

Valerie stared at her hands, chewing thoughtfully on her lip. Then, she faced her palms to her chest. Danny opened the comments section on the article. He scrolled through really jumbled, angry sentiments. It warmed his heart. Not the insurance debacle, obviously - just the raging discourse about a certain mayor. A delightful amount of people didn’t like his face or his dumb eyebrows -

 _Boom_.

A spectacular flash of light seared through the air, heat roared across the roof. Danny dropped his phone and looked up in time to see a blazing red beam of pure energy rocket into a thin cloud layer, changing the color of the sky to crimson. A crack like thunder snapped from above, and the color faded.

Valerie stood with her feet awkwardly apart, staring up at the electric fiddle popping inside of the clouds. Her hair was blown back and standing on end. Clutched tightly in her arms was a small, two-slotted toaster.

Smoke rose from the slots. “Did you just...fire... _breakfast_?”

She blinked several times. Her lips had become suddenly chapped. Frazzled hair fell over her face when she shook her head, “I - I just, I’ve fixed this toaster so many times. Or - the - the one - in my house, it barely works.” She dropped her eyes to it. “I just wanted it to finally work.”

Danny’s feet hit the ground. He let out a low whistle. “Well. Once again, I'm no expert, but I don't think you should put toast in that.” He picked up his phone and tucked it away.

Down below, a siren wailed. That blast wouldn’t go unnoticed. Valerie turned her head to follow the sound; she shifted the toaster so that it rested on her hip, “Do you eat?”

“Food?”

“Yeah. I’m hungry.”

His ears burned. “I mean. Sure.”

 

* * *

 

Unless if a certain someone was working, the employees of the Nasty Burger did not question whoever (or whatever) wandered through their drive-thru. This is how Danny Phantom and the (masked) Red Huntress picked up two number five’s and a pair of XL coffees, black. They sat on the catwalk of a singed billboard that hovered over the highway. The morning sun had only just begun to melt frost.

Phantom unwrapped a breakfast biscuit and counted. “Tacoma, Tacoma, and there’s another Tacoma with a red finish...” He pointed over the rail at a pair of tail lights. “They’re the most common truck in the area. It’s because they’re good for cities, are causal in terms of what they haul, and work for someone who wants a truck but doesn’t want like, a monster.”

Valerie watched, her face pinched in concentration. The toaster rested between them, and she figured it served as both a barrier and a personal space heater. She did not admit that she was a little worried that the moment she made it disappear that she couldn’t make it come back. Her scars glowed in her huntress form, metal pooled out of the light, but it felt like liquid pouring out of her veins. As if it was a piece of her own blood and body. She could feel Phantom’s arm brush against the toaster accidentally, and it unnerved her. Her weapons and armor used to be the only thing she felt in control of, and now…

Valerie sighed. Now the only thing she had control over was this conversation. Phantom had answers, and for once, she _wanted_ them. “I’ve never seen a ghost eat and talk about cars.”

“You haven’t given a lot of them the chance.” He took a sip of scalding coffee to avoid her glare, “Yeah, I know, they haven’t given you much opportunity either. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. ...They try to kill me too, you know.”

“You’re already dead.”

“It’s still rude.”

Valerie watched the traffic ebb and flow. School was starting soon; this felt more important. “Something’s been bothering me.” Valerie rested her back against the billboard and inspected the incoming wall of clouds from the east. “I need to ask you something.”

The ghost beside her shimmered, his skin drifted translucent, then hardened into a solid object as he turned to look at her. Phantom had freckles over his nose, single strands of hair sticking to his forehead, and he was somehow capable of drinking coffee and playing normal. He offered his most alluring grin and bit into another bite of his sausage egg and cheese muffin, “Oh?”

Valerie pressed her lips together. She’s seen ghosts up close. None of them looked as real as he did. None of them really... _acted_ the same way, either. “Why are you different?” Phantom raised his salt-and-pepper eyebrows, and Valerie threw up her hand, “And don’t _lie_ to me.”

The eyebrows shot up further. He looked much like a deer caught in headlights, about to flee and vanish in a misty forest. Instead he tilted his head, schooled his expression, “Why do you think I’m different?”

“Why are you pretending you’re not?” Valerie shot back. “You just described to me how this mullet-ghost - “

“Technus.”

“ - _mullet-ghost_ is so special because he has some amazing ‘adapt’ superpower. He’s able to grow and change, and ghosts ‘can’t learn new things’, but last week during the attack of the clones, you made about six different Star Wars references, mourned the loss of Princess Leia, and quoted Guardians of the Galaxy.” Valerie waved her breakfast sandwich in support of her own thoughts, “That movie happened after your dead ass showed up, so, explain this. They can’t grow, but _you_ can? What makes you so special?”

Phantom grinned, he opened his mouth to speak, and then his smile fell away. He frowned and plucked at the lid to his coffee - she refrained from throwing ‘plus you’re eating real food’ on there, because in all fairness she’d seen a giant glowing worm ghost eat an entire Subway. (The building, the manager, and all sandwiches inside.)

“It’s my superpower.” Phantom finally, quietly responded, staring now intently at his coffee. “I can, um. Everyone has something. Ember has her music, and she can make it whatever she wants. A divine symphony or an epic rock battle. It doesn’t take skill because it’s what she is. Technus can keep up with the industrial world because he loves it, and it’s all that he cares about, and in the end it’s what he is. We’re all memories of ourselves, you know? Like…” He pulled his knees up to his chest and pressed his back against the billboard, his eyes on the highway. “For me, my niche is being human. I can do things most ghost can’t. Little things, like feeling the wind and its coldness. I can burn my hand on a hot stove. I can eat, I get satisfaction out of sleep, I can watch new movies and I can….uh, I can fall in love.”

His ears and his cheeks flushed with a peculiar glow, a sickly greenish pallor. “It’s a rare and lucky condition, I think. Unlucky too, but, that’s,” he waved in the vague direction of downtown, “nothing.”

“So, hold on,” Valerie fiddled with her coffee, regretting its lack of cream and sugar. “Your super ghost obsession-ability is _being human_? What is that? What kind of a person dies with that as their only passion?”

“It wasn’t my passion.”

“Then what was it?”

Phantom shrugged. “An accident.”

They ate their breakfast in relative companionable silence. Valerie wondered at new topics to broach, but nothing felt right. She had a thousand questions. None of them became words. At five minutes to eight, Valerie dusted off her hands and got to her feet. “School starts soon.”

“Yeah.” He pushed himself up. “Guess that means I’ll see you later.” He eyed the toaster. “Are you going to be burning me to a crisp next time, or…?”

“No.” Valerie bit her lip. “I don’t want to suffer toast puns for the rest of eternity, so until I get my equipment figured out, maybe we can have a truce. Hunt together?”

“Like as a team?”

“Like on a truce.”

“A _team up_ truce.”

“ _Fine_.”

“Well.” Phantom planted his hands on his hips, “You understand we’re going to need a team name.”

She rolled her eyes, “No.”

“Red Phantom?”

“That just sounds like a cooler version of _you_ , no. We don’t need a team name.” A glossy pool formed under her feet and shaped into her hoverboard. She levitated, noting the smoothness of her ascent had improved dramatically. “And if we did have a team name, your name and my name couldn’t be in it.”

Phantom rose into the air with her, his hand pressed to his chin in deep thought. He eyed her hoverboard. “Well then. I mean. Silver...ghost?”

“You’re a nerd, so I know you know that’s too close to the Silver Surfer.”

“I’ve got it.” Phantom spread apart his arms, “ _Gray_ ghost!”

Her heart skipped a beat, hearing her last name. It took too long for her to gather herself, and remember, of course. He means the color. Obviously. _Act normal._ She faked a smile, “Yeah, whatever, just know this is _temporary_. We’re not an actual team.”

“I’m making matching shirts.”

“I already regret this.”

Phantom beamed.

And then he was gone, a puff of smoke fading into the air, the ghost of his outline still burned into her brain. Valerie held her toaster to her chest and wondered why her heart fluttered a little with an odd sort of warmth. It had nothing to do with that ghost.

It had nothing at all to do with that ghost.


End file.
